


The Demon that Wasn't

by Star_Going_Supernova



Series: Inky Eyes, Golden Heart [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Dark, Dark fluff, Demons, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Henry and Joey are little tater tots, Minor Character Death, because it's, but it's kinda also, not graphic or any of the listed characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 18:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12587624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Going_Supernova/pseuds/Star_Going_Supernova
Summary: Joey takes Henry trick-or-treating for the first time. You'd think that wouldn't be so problematic for a demon.





	The Demon that Wasn't

**Author's Note:**

> I DID IT, IT'S STILL HALLOWEEN, THIS COUNTS. 
> 
> This is what happens when you realize you have an AU with a demon character, followed by the unacceptable realization that you didn't make a Halloween special.
> 
> There are little hints about Henry's backstory in here, kudos if you can sniff them out and piece them together.

Emma Ross waved at the parents standing on the sidewalk, watching their children select candy from the bowl tucked into the crook of her arm. Once they had scampered off, she closed the front door and set the treats on the hall table. 

She peeked into the living room. Henry was still kneeling on the couch, carefully eyeing everyone who passed by. 

Emma sighed and went to sit down next to him. Her son startled as the seat cushions dipped. 

“He’ll come, sweetheart,” she said, opening her arms. Henry immediately tucked himself into her embrace, as affectionate as always. 

You’d think he hadn’t grown up loved and cared for with the way he acted sometimes. 

“He’s late, mama,” he said, voice muffled by her shirt. 

Emma smiled. “Only by a few minutes. You know Joey. He wouldn’t ever leave you high and dry.” 

“But what if he changed his mind? What if he doesn’t wanna go Trick-or-Treating with someone who’s never been before?”

“Then we’ll build a blanket fort in the basement and eat all the candy before your father gets home!”

Henry gasped. “Mama!” 

She glanced out the window. “It looks like your father’s sweet tooth is safe for another day. See?”

Henry wiggled up to peer over her shoulder, following her gaze. There was Joey, dressed like the devil that many adults so often claimed he was. He wore all black, with pointy red horns sticking out of his dark hair and a tail banging against the back of his legs. In one hand, he carried a pitchfork; in the other, a pillowcase painted like a jack-o-lantern. 

Emma only half-heard her son speak through his giggles, preoccupied with waving at Mrs. Drew before she walked back to her own home.

“He doesn’t look anything like the Devil!”

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“Nothin,’ mama!” Henry slid off her lap to the floor and straightened his toga. “How do I look?”

It had been Joey’s idea for the two of them to go Trick-or-Treating with matching costumes. He’d taken dibs on the devil, reasoning that Henry was too nice to be anything but an angel. 

Henry had laughed for a long time after he said that, but it was a happy laugh, not a mocking one, so Joey hadn’t been mad.

Emma smiled at her little boy— at the white-gold halo resting on top of his dark brown hair like a crown, at the sheet-toga ending haphazardly at his scuffed knees, at the fluffy white wings that bounced with as much life as Henry himself did. 

“You look like the cutest angel I’ve ever seen,” she told him. 

He pressed his hands to his mouth, smothering his giggles. “Mama!” 

The doorbell rang, and Joey’s voice floated through the door, “Henry! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“I’m comin,’ Joey!” he cried, almost tripping in his sandals on his way to the front door. 

By the time Emma joined them, Joey had given Henry a pillowcase identical to his own and was telling him about the spooky house a few blocks down. She sent them off with their first pieces of candy, a reminder to only go up to houses with lights on, and a smooch to Henry’s cheek. 

“Have fun, boys!” she called after them as they started down the sidewalk. 

• • • • • 

Henry fidgeted in place as they waited for the door to open. When it did, he and Joey both cried out, “Trick or treat!” to the man standing there. 

He’d seen kids on Halloween before, but he’d never understood what they were doing. It seemed a little strange, dressing up and demanding candy from your neighbors, but it was all in good fun.

The only problem was the timing. The stories his parents had told him about the holiday were mostly about how the veil between worlds was thinnest, and they couldn’t have been more right. Minor spirits drifted through the groups of children, thankfully doing no more than causing a brief chill or the hair on their arms to raise. 

There were a few higher level beings here and there— causing stomach aches and late-night sniffles— that Henry had to flare his demonic aura at to drive off. 

But no demons yet. The veil was thin enough that some might be able to wiggle through for the night, and Henry knew he couldn’t let any of them hurt Joey. If they were lucky, they wouldn’t wander across _any_ demons, present company excepted.

At the next house, a stooped lady with wispy gray hair sat in a rocking chair on the porch. 

“Oh, what lovely costumes!” she said. “I have just the thing for you boys!”

She rummaged around in the bowl in her lap, finally removing two necklaces. 

Henry could feel Joey deflate a bit next to him. This was Henry’s first Halloween, and even _he_ knew that kids didn’t want plastic jewelry. 

Against all odds, Joey somehow managed to be polite as he stepped forward, allowing the old lady to slide the cord over his head, a gray skull pendant coming to rest on his chest. “Uh, thanks, ma’am.” 

She beckoned Henry closer, but he hesitated. The necklace she’d chosen for him had a little silver cross on it. 

Angel costumes, he could do. There was nothing about a sheet, white wings, and a shiny ring on his head that was overly religious. But an actual cross, with the intention to be a recognized religious symbol?

Well, at least it was small enough that it might only burn a little. 

Henry bowed his head for the cord. The cross settled against him. And he swallowed the pained cry that rose up his throat.

It didn’t just burn; Henry’s head pounded and his stomach rebelled. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice breaking a little. 

Joey frowned at him, but the lady didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “Oh, you’re welcome, dearies. Run along now, and enjoy your night!” 

Stumbling down the stairs, Joey leading him with a hand wrapped around his wrist, Henry reached up and grasped the cross. As soon as they were far enough away from the house to not be noticed, he yanked it off, chucking it into one of the spaces between houses.

“Henry! Henry, are you okay?” Joey pried his clenched fist open, revealing a raised red mark where his skin had touched the holy symbol. 

He coughed weakly, his demonic aura writhing in the aftermath. What was Joey going to think?

“You must be allergic!”

Henry blinked, his eyes still watering a bit. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. 

Joey wrenched off his own necklace and sent it sailing after Henry’s. “There! Now whatever hurt you can’t hurt you again.”

… years. Henry had been wandering the earth’s surface for years, surrounded by humans, and he’d been settled down with a family and a home and Joey for months now, yet consideration like that still made his heart feel warm and gooey on the inside, like melting chocolate. 

Already, the burn was fading as Joey’s eyes lit up with mischief. 

“Hey! I know what will make you feel better! That spooky house I was tellin’ you about is just around the corner— c’mon!” 

Together, they ran off, stopping at a few houses on the way. 

Henry knew the instant they were close. There was the slightest hint of a malevolent presence radiating from the house with boarded up windows. Probably why the neighborhood kids thought it was haunted. It wasn’t powerful enough to be dangerous, though, and that’s why Henry let Joey lead him up the steps onto the rotting porch. 

“Now,” Joey said, “if you don’t want to go because it’s scary, we can leave—”

He cut off as Henry all but lunged past him to the door. “Are you kidding? This is awesome!”

Joey positively lit up. “Really? No one _ever_ wants to go inside with me, and it’s no fun going alone!” 

Bouncing on his toes, wings looking alive behind him, Henry reached for the handle. “Then what are we waiting for?”

With a little otherworldly magick, Henry easily pushed the massive front door open, the hinges squeaking all the way. They tiptoed inside, staring at the burn marks and splotches of suspiciously dark fluid. 

The presence made the house groan around them, startling Joey. Since he was aware of the leftover life, though, it wasn’t as scary for Henry; even if he didn’t know what it was, it wouldn’t have scared him— how could it have, when he was the most dangerous thing in the house?

They wandered around, whispering about the dusty handprints on some of the tables and how a trail of footprints ended in the middle of one of the rooms. 

In one of the darker corners, Henry found something that almost looked like a water balloon, but since the part of his aura that tracked the Seven Sins registered lots of leftover lust, he didn’t point it out to Joey. 

As they passed near the stairs to the upper floor, Henry paused, feeling the presence zero in on Joey as a target for its tricks. It probably wouldn’t hurt him, but Henry refused to take chances. He flared his demonic power at it, warning it away. It cowered back and retreated to the attic. 

Satisfied, Henry traipsed after Joey into the kitchen, which had even more burn marks covering the floor, walls, and ceiling. He stopped cold in his tracks. 

Two older boys were standing over a struggling Joey, one gripping his shoulders— too tightly, Henry noticed, hands balling into fists— and the other leaning down to stare into his eyes. 

“Hey!” he said, dropping his pillowcase. If he had to fight them, he would, and he’d just have to hope he didn’t lose control of his transformation. 

“Henry, get outta here!” Joey tried to kick his captors, but they moved out of the way too quickly.

The looming boy looked up at Henry, whose shoulders immediately tensed. Joey wouldn’t be able to tell, not without Sight, but the boy’s demon-black eyes were all too visible to Henry. 

Stepping towards Henry, the demon-possessed boy smirked. “Well, well. Looks like we found a little runt. Are you lost, or—” he glanced back at Joey— “are you just playing the long game with this one?” 

“Get away from him,” Henry said, glaring.

The demon holding Joey threw him aside. Anger exploded in Henry’s chest as he watched his friend slam into the wall and crumple to the floor. 

“Check it out, Almalech. Pint-size here thinks he can tell us what to do, huh?” The first demon took another step closer to Henry. 

“We oughta show him his place, don’t you think?” Almalech— the demon that tossed Joey aside like a doll— cracked his knuckles. 

Henry stared past them at the heap of his best friend. “You hurt him,” he said, his voice lacking any inflection. 

Almalech laughed, his demon voice briefly overpowering the boy’s. “Did you hear that, Orcobos? I hurt his wittle human.” He thumped Orcobos on the back and said quieter, “Let’s see if I can make him cry.”

He started to turn back towards Joey. Henry snarled, his fangs slicing into his lips, sending twin rivulets of blood trickling down his chin.  
  
**“Touch him, and I’ll tear you limb from limb.”**  

Both demons froze. Almalech looked over his shoulder, eyes bulging. Orcobos instinctively lurched away.

From his forehead, Henry could feel his horns sticking out of his skin, small and pearly, but there nonetheless. The ridged scales on his neck and shoulders bristled, partially shredding his sheet-toga. He kept his eyes closed, but he could still see the two demons just fine. 

“That’s not possible,” Orcobos whispered hoarsely. “Only the Ancients can use their powers while possessing—”

“That’s not a vessel,” Almalech said. “That’s— Orcobos— that’s the demon that Wasn’t.”

Orcobos cursed in the Ancient language. 

“You hurt my friend,” Henry said. He stepped towards them. They nearly tripped over each other, trying to keep their distance. 

His demonic aura grew. Shadows bent towards him; cracks formed in the floor, reaching for his prey; the halo on his head slipped from gravity’s hold to hover over his head like it was meant to. 

Neither Orcobos nor Almalech took notice of any of that. They kept their wide eyes on his face, like that would save them.

“These vessels!” Almalech cried. “They’re just a couple’a stupid kids. They got drunk and found an old ritual book in their attic, they— you wouldn’t hurt humans, would you?” 

Henry was silent for a moment, considering. But then his aura reached Joey, and found the crack in his skull and the blood leaking into his brain. 

Standing tall and sure, Henry opened his eyes.

• • • • •

“Joey! Joey, c’mon, you gotta wake up!” Henry gave Joey another gentle shake.

His friend groaned and rolled his head around. “Wha’ happened?” 

“There were boys here, do you remember them?”

Joey nodded, finally opening his eyes. 

Kneeling with his back to the rest of the room, Henry leaned further over him. “One of ’em bashed you over the head!” 

Wiggling around until Henry helped him sit up, Joey asked, “What’d you do?”

“The other tried to make a grab at me, so I kicked him in the nuts.” 

Joey burst out laughing. “That’s great, Henry!” 

Henry gave him a lopsided grin. “Thanks, I guess. And don’t worry, your head’s not bleeding or anything. I think there’s just a little bump.”

“You sure?”

“Very sure.” 

“That’s good, I suppose. Here, gimme a hand.” Joey held his arms up for Henry to yank him to his feet. 

“We should probably head home,” Henry said. “I bet it’s pretty late, and you should probably get some rest.”

Joey sighed. “Yeah, I guess. You must think I’m a real pansy.”

Henry bounced in front of him as they headed for the front door. “Are you crazy? Think of what we can tell the others at school! You got knocked out in the spookiest house in town on Halloween and lived to tell the tale! And I got to kick an older boy in the nuts! We’ll be legends!”

Laughing, Joey reeled Henry in with an arm around his shoulder. “Trust you to be able to put a good spin on things.”

“My mama says that’s called findin’ the silver lining.” 

“Yeah? Well, I guess that makes sense, Mr. Angel.” Joey hummed thoughtfully. They stepped onto the sidewalk, turning towards their block. “I wonder who those boys were. Do you think we’ll ever see ’em again?”  
  
Henry tilted his head. He thought of the twin spots of extra dark burn marks now marring the spooky house’s kitchen. “Nah, I don’t think we will.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Every time I've typed Halloween today, I've typed it with three Es. Halloweeen.) 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Give me more ideas for these pint-sized nuggets, I loved writing them. Also, they're probably eleven-ish here. Thereabouts. 
> 
> Also also, let me know if you have questions; there's definitely a fair amount in this that's left unspoken.


End file.
